


To Have and to Hold

by KestrelShrike



Category: Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Marriage, Normandy - Freeform, Wedding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-21
Updated: 2017-09-21
Packaged: 2019-01-03 21:36:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12155277
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KestrelShrike/pseuds/KestrelShrike
Summary: So I’ve had this personal headcanon for a while that Shepard and Garrus get married aboard the Normandy, right before Priority: Earth in ME3. After sitting on it for literally months, I wrote a short little drabble about it, hopefully to expand at a later date. Let me know what you think!





	To Have and to Hold

Every part of Shepard’s body was in pain, and she had never been happier. Beneath their feet, the Earth spun still, as if nothing had happened, but inside they prepared for war. But not quite yet. First, there was a celebration. 

“Is that really what you want to wear, Shepard?” Tali held the offending garment between two fingers, arm as straight and as far away from her body as she could make it. 

Snatching her clothing back, Shepard held the tunic close to her chest. “What’s wrong with this? It’s what I wear every day.” 

Tali threw her arms up in the air. “That’s exactly the problem, Shepard! Even quarians have more fashion sense than you do.” 

“I’m wearing it, and that’s final.” With a Commander’s resolve, Shepard shooed Tali from her quarters, shaking her head. It was something old, after all. Liara, as their officiant, was something blue, a fact that made her smile even now, despite her nerves and her worry over the Reapers. And her something new? Her entire body, Cerberus branded and rebuilt, foreign to her and riddled with imperfections and pain. 

It took only minutes for Shepard to be ready, her daily wear close-fitting and comfortable, hair down, straight and red, feeling uncomfortably free. She had debated wearing her dress blues, but only for a moment; the Alliance had already been too much a part of her life, and today was for her, for Garrus, and for the whole Normandy crew. 

With no parents alive to walk her down the aisle, Shepard walked herself (not that they had much of an aisle in the first place.) There were friends enough, as much as she could gather here on such short notice, others on vidcom. She would see them all on Earth soon, but there would be no time for celebration there. Such grim thoughts didn’t fit the day or the mood and Shepard tried her best to quell them, the smile that stretched across her face uneasy, as if she didn’t deserve to feel so happy when so much had gone wrong and could still collapse. 

Seeing Garrus put all her fears to rest. It was rare to see him out of armor, even for Shepard, and he stood uncomfortably in what must have been the turian version of a tuxedo, hastily tailored from someone else, still too large on him in some places, too tight in others. Forsaking whatever convention she had still adhered to, Shepard ran the rest of the way, throwing her arms around his neck, feeling him lift her just once so they could see eye to eye before she was placed carefully down today. 

Liara began, her words on on a datapad, carefully typed out. “The Protheans had a wedding custom that dictated-” 

“Liara,” Shepard warned. “We have an hour.” Even that hour had been hard won, seemingly a waste of time that could be spent making further preparations, checking and re-checking weapons until they were one hundred percent certain.

Hastily scrolling through her notes, Liara obeyed. “Do you, Shrike Shepard, take Garrus Vakarian to be your lawfully wedded husband? In peace and in war, during Reapers and Geth, until you meet at the bar?” She frowned, those last words obviously unfamiliar to her, but when she stopped, a sharp look from Shepard was enough to propel the asari forward. 

“I do.” Those may have been the two most important words Shepard had ever spoken. No, not the most important- her warnings about the Reapers had been that- but this came pretty damn close. 

“Do you, Garrus Vakarian, take Shrike Shepard to be your lawfully wedded wife? Do you promise to be… goddess’ sake… to be as supportive as her waist?” From the small assembled audience, Joker whooped and Garrus had the grace to look mildly embarrassed. 

“I do.” None of the ceremony was turian, but they had plans for another one, plans made in yearning voices, knowing it may not ever come, a future where everyone could attend, where everyone survived and Shepard wore a ridiculous white dress, flowers in her hair. 

“I had something more than this, but I now pronounce you husband and wife… But you may now kiss the bride.” For all that she was put out by not being able to do her whole speech, a smile graced Liara’s face, and when Shepard and Garrus leaned forward, foreheads touching before her lips met his mandibles, there was a tear in the asari’s eyes. 

It was not a dream wedding. It was a ceremony over in minutes, no alcohol to cloud their minds as they headed into battle. But it was the promise of something more, a future to hold onto, and that would have to be enough.


End file.
